Second Life
by Knyrist
Summary: Just because you wake up in Skyrim, doesn't mean you get to be the hero. A collection of short stories.


Cold rain. That's what caused Emily to wake up, caked in mud and chilled to the bone.

Slowly she rose, leaning carefully on one arm. With her other hand she tugged the wet strands of hair away from her face, then placed an icy hand on her forehead to ease the pounding headache. She remained in that position, until the dizziness faded and ache became bearable.

Emily sat up, looking around. Pine trees? There were no pine trees near her house. Shivering, she looked down.

Where the _hell_ were her clothes?

Soaked to the bone, Emily huddled against the nearest boulder, slick with rain. Lost, naked except for her underwear, and nearly frozen solid, she had no idea what to do. Stay here until someone found her or she froze to death, or stumble through the forest until she found civilization or became even more lost?

And how on earth did she end up in a forest anyway? Kidnapped, but with no memory of the kidnapping or the people responsible? How would that explain waking up, cold and alone in the woods?

Getting to her feet – slipping and sliding and grasping at the slick stone beside her – Emily began to stumble though the forest, hoping that she found civilization soon.

…

Emily came across a dirt road a couple of hours later, still cold with sore feet. She remained hidden in the trees – not because she didn't want to be seen, but because she wasn't sure what sort of person she'd meet along the road. Frankly, she had no idea how they'd react to a naked woman walking alone. Emily figured she could yell out if there was someone who looked trustworthy. Maybe if she was lucky, a cop car would pass by soon.

The dirt road was littered with stones, and slowly morphed into a cobblestone path. The rain had stopped, leaving the sky grey and overcast. The trees showed no signs of thinning, and Emily was getting tired.

Making her way over a ridge, she got a glimpse of stone walls and smoke. Emily stepped out of the trees and into the road, quickly heading towards the stone structure.

The buildings turned out to be some sort of fort, burnt and crumbling. The walls surrounded a small collection of houses which were equally damaged. Emily cautiously passed through the broken gate, coughing a little because of the smoke.

Clambering over rocks and broken carts, Emily looked around. There was no one in sight. She followed a narrow path, between the piles of wreckage of the town.

Maybe she was on a movie set? The stone walls and houses were really old-looking, so maybe they were shooting a medieval film. Probably set in a war zone, judging by the smoldering buildings. It would make sense to have a set so large in the middle of nowhere. But where were the cameramen? The crew? And the actors? Surely they wouldn't leave a set abandoned.

Emily headed towards one of the least damaged buildings, what looked like to be the main fort in the center of the town. She climbed over the door, which had fallen off its hinges.

"Hello?" she called out. "Anyone there?"

There was no response. She made her way further into the room, pushing aside the table and the fallen chairs, stepping into the blood and –

Emily wiped her mouth. She found herself kneeling on the floor, one hand shakily supporting her. She leaned back, wiping her vomit off her hand and onto her thigh as she tried not to look at the corpse.

Morbid curiosity pulled her eyes back to the body. It was a man, large and blond, dressed as some sort of soldier wearing a blue cloak and some sort of scaly armor. There was no mistaking the body for a prop, however. Gashes covered his body and armor, and blood had pooled around his neck, surrounding the wound in his throat. A second body was slumped against the opposite wall.

Emily quickly left the room, heading deeper into the fort. Shuddering, she leaned against the cold stone wall, covering her eyes as a sob escaped her throat. She had no idea where she was, there were the corpses of brutally murdered people – what the hell had happened here?

Once she had gathered herself, Emily made her way down the stairs, eager to get away from the corpse. She collected what food and clothes she could find, grateful that she was no longer cold and hungry.

Heading further into the keep with the intention to find someone to help – or at least grab some more things to help her survive alone – Emily tried to ignore the clearly well-used jail cells and the rising bile in her throat. However, when she found more corpses in what was clearly a torture room, she fell to her knees and heaved until her stomach was empty.

When the tears and the vomiting stopped, she stumbled to her feet. Emily grabbed what she could see – some gold coins, a knapsack and a small dagger - and raced out of the room and back outside.

…

Emily tumbled into the bed that Delphine had showed her. The sheets were made of a rough fabric and were less than clean, but it was heaven after all she'd been though. Emily had reached the inn at nightfall, and handed over what few coins she had found in return for a hot meal and a bed for the night.

She turned over to lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Scared and feeling very alone in an unfamiliar world, Emily had no idea what to do. She couldn't stay in the inn forever, she had to find her way back home. Home – where everything made sense and there weren't corpses and smoking buildings and – Emily shuddered.

Sitting up again, she pulled her knapsack towards her. She had filled it with whatever she could grab from the fort, and decided to search through its haphazardly organized contents for something to sell.

Some apples and bread, a few items of clothing – Emily placed the set of leather armor by her bedside, intending to put it on in the morning; it seemed like a good idea, after she had seen the results of this violent place. She glanced towards the dagger, and then placed it on the bedside table, next to the armor.

Emily placed some of the clothes to the side, deciding to keep the armor, the clothes she was wearing, and one extra set. She added some valuable goblets and a book she had stolen from the keep to the pile, intending to sell them to the shop next door in the morning.

Emily repacked the knapsack, tugged off her boots and tucked herself into bed. She idly played with one of the few gold coins she had left, running the tip of her finger along its rim. No symbols that she recognised, and she didn't know of any countries that used any obviously gold coins. She sighed, placing the gold piece back in her bag.

So she was in a mysterious land where everyone looked like they just came from a Renaissance fair, where murder was fair game and there was no one to help her and –

Emily bit back a sob. She curled up her body, wrapping the sheets around her more tightly. She alone and terrified. She wanted her family, she wanted to be at home, she wanted something familiar...

Wait a moment.

Emily sat up quickly and grabbed her bag again. She dug through the knapsack for the book. Hadn't she seen that symbol before? She traced a finger along the silver dragon mark on the black covering.

She remembered the mark. It was on those burnt flags, hanging about the town. They hadn't reminded her of something; it was the silver on black that reminded her… reminding her of something on a television?

That symbol! It was a part of that game! That dragon game Greg was always playing on that X-thingy! Her brother had hogged the television often enough that Emily had seen the symbol many times. She ran her fingers along the binding.

So that meant she was in a video game… A very logical conclusion.

Emily laughed, which quickly changed to sobs. A game where there were no extra lives, where death comes to you too easily. She clasped the book to her chest and curled up on the bed, crying herself to sleep.

…

Emily woke with the dawn and remained in bed until she could hear the stirrings of the other patrons. She stared at the ceiling. Empty. She felt empty.

Emily forced herself to leave the bed. She changed into her armor, fumbling with the straps and placing the dagger at her hip. Grabbing her knapsack and nodding to Delphine, she headed towards the lone shop.

"Anything else you need?" asked Lucan, after Emily traded most of her items for some gold.

"Just directions, please." She said. "What's the nearest town?"

"Not much in the way of small towns, miss, but we're not far from Whiterun," he answered, tucking away his newly acquired items. "That's the capital of the hold, where Balgruuf the Greater rules. Looking for anywhere in particular?"

"Not really. Just… trying to find my family."

"Ah, say no more. Not my business, nosing into family affairs. Managing a magnificent shop, now, that's my business." Emily smiled weakly. "You just remember old Lucan's store, alright? Maybe spread the word when you're out searching."

"Thank you, sir, I will." Emily slung her knapsack back onto her shoulders.

"Good luck, girl. Whiterun is just along the main road, across the bridge. Camilla can point you in the right direction if you need it."

…

Emily trudged along the cobblestone road. Lucan's sister had walked with her to the bridge, giving her more detailed directions along the way. It was midday, and by Camilla's instructions, she was about halfway to Whiterun. The city was visible the moment Emily followed the road over the ridge, but there were still a few miles between her and her destination.

As she walked, Emily fell deeper into contemplation. What on earth was she doing? How would going to Whiterun help get her home? This was a Middle Ages kind of game, right? Maybe there were wizards who could magic her back, or do some sort of ritual to open a portal home? Maybe she could –

Pain travelled up her leg as growls filled her ears. Emily stumbled back, only to come face to face with a wolf. She screamed and fumbled for her dagger, sweeping it in a wide arc that missed the beast. The dagger was trembling in her hand as she tried to keep it steady.

The wolf snarled again, leaping towards her face. She dodged, only to have a claw hook through the side of her face. Emily stabbed at the mass of fur in desperation.

She found herself once again on her knees, panting and sitting in a growing puddle of blood. The wolf was dead, a mass of blood and fur. Now that she wasn't terrified for her life, she could see that the mangy wolf was skinny, with ragged fur. Emily was lucky – the wolf had been alone, and although it was desperate for prey, it was too weak to do too much damage.

Emily pressed a shaking had to the gash on her shin. Shallow, but deep enough to be concerned about. She rummaged through her backpack, using the blood soaked dagger hack off a piece of her spare shirt for a makeshift bandage. Tightly tying the strip of cloth around her leg, Emily grabbed her bag and moved as fast as she could towards Whiterun.

…

Emily reached the city near sunset. A guard pointed her towards the alchemist's shop, where a kind woman helped to properly bind her leg.

Emily spent the next week in Whiterun, resting and buying food and replacement clothes, as well as trading her dagger for a shortsword. She didn't know how to use it – that much was obvious to the stern woman at the blacksmith's – but Emily could now see that a small dagger would be useless if she was attacked by anything stronger than a sickly, starving wolf.

She had hoped to remain in Whiterun, at least until she could find a way home. But living in the city was lonely, and no one seemed to know or care much about magic. She decided to travel north, maybe making her way to that magic college. Anything was better than just… waiting.

…

Emily awoke with a pounding head, hands tightly bound with a rough rope. She had been… walking? Walking north. Towards… the college. It was overcast again, and she was… she was…

"Oi, Agmund, she's awake."

"…Whut?"

"She's awake, now get up you lout." There was a thud and a groan. Emily shook her head, trying to make the dizziness go away.

"Hey, girl." A shadow fell over her and a dirty hand lifted her chin. "Finally awake, eh?"

Emily's eyes finally focussed. A man crouched in front of her, bearded and wearing fur clothing. She yanked her head out of his hand and tried to move away from him as he laughed.

"Relax, girl, we ain't gonna hurt ya." Two other men came to stand behind him, both with fur armor, one thin with a quiver of arrows and a bow in hand and the other with a giant axe strapped to his back. Emily trembled in fear.

"Look what ya did, Ragnvald, you've scared the little lady."

"Shut up, Agmund."

"What do y-you want from me?" Emily tried to move further away. Her back hit a fallen log – she was in a campsite, the log obviously used as makeshift seating.

"Just want to talk, girl." The bearded man stood. "Relax."

"She's not gonna relax with your ugly mug in 'er face, old man," said the one with the axe – Agmund – which earned him a hard elbow in the ribs from the archer. "Fuck, what was that for?"

"Shut it, Agmund." The bearded man moved towards the campfire, poking at the embers with the end of his greatsword. "Not gonna hurt you, girl. Just got a proposition for you."

Emily watched the movements of the sword, saying nothing.

"You see, girl, we're bandits. Good ones, too. Good enough that we can split into groups, spread our numbers, get some good thieving done. Work together, have each other's backs, split the loot.

"Problem is," he spat onto the ground, "we're good enough to have a leader, one that wants our numbers to grow, bigger than they are now. So I get saddled with this sorry lot," he gestured at the other two, "and we get to go recruiting. Get where this is going?"

Emily swallowed. "S-so you're recruiting? You want me to become a bandit?"

"No. Like I said, girl, we're good bandits. We ain't stupid. We need recruits, we go looking for men who are _good_ at being thieving sons of bitches, not for lost girls in the wilderness. We found some, easy enough."

"Then what do you need me for?"

Emily's eyes followed the bearded man's movements around the camp as he paced, saying nothing.

After a few moments of silence, the archer spoke up. "We did find some recruits, like Ragnvald said. But with the war starting up, we run into soldiers of the Empire and Stormcloaks a lot. Neither like bandits."

Ragnvald stopped pacing. "The long and short of it is that we don't have any recruits no more, and the boss says we're out of time. So we show up with what we got or not at all. And what we got is you, girl."

"Me? Why me?

"'Cause you're someone that no one would miss. If you were important, you'd be carrying 'round stuff more valuable that this shit." He kicked over her knapsack, and Emily watched as her few possessions tumbled into the dirt. "We ain't about to start trouble with any one with coin or status, just so we have something to show the boss.

"So here's the deal, girl. You join us, we train you up to be good enough to keep the boss happy, we cut you in the some of the loot, and send you on your merry way. You in?"

Emily nodded, fearful of the armed men. Doing what they asked would keep her alive, at least for now. Better make nice with the men who could carry weapons twice her weight.

"Good. I'm Ragnvald. The idiot with the axe is Agmund."

"Piss off, old man."

"Our archer is Gavik. He's got some skill with one handed weapons, so he'll show you how to use that sword of yours." Emily found herself being lifted up, bonds cut, and her sword shoved into her hands. "Get to it, girl."

…

Emily collapsed onto the log, exhausted. Night had fallen, and the campfire had been stoked to a merry flame. Gavik had trained her hard, pushing her to her limit. Emily had aches and pains in muscles she didn't know she had. She could see Ragnvald pacing a ways off from camp. The archer had disappeared immediately after she sat down and had vanished into the trees.

An apple was waved in front of her face, startling her. Agmund had plopped himself down next to her, leaning his back on the log and munching on an apple of his own.

"Good job today, little lady."

Emily hesitantly took the apple, which was dwarfed by his massive hand. "Thank you," she said, taking a small bite.

Agmund grinned, showing off yellowing teeth. "First time holding a sword, eh?"

She swallowed. "That obvious, huh?" she smiled weakly.

"Yep." He took a large bite of the apple with a satisfied crunch. "Dunno how you lasted this long out here."

She let out a small laugh. "I don't know how either."

"What's a little lady like you doing out here anyhow?" He asked around bites of the apple, juices running freely down his chin.

"Just… looking."

"For what?"

"A way home."

"Lost, are you?"

"Something like that."

"Not much out here. Not gonna find that out here in these woods, I bet." Agmund had finished his apple and was tucking into half of a bread loaf.

"Probably not."

They sat in silence. Emily twisted her hands in her lap nervously. Agmund noticed the movement and grinned.

"Still scared, eh?"

"…Yes."

"Good." Emily looked at him in wonder. "We ain't gonna hurt you, little lady, but people who trust too easy don't last long in our line of work." Agmund leaned back against the log, practically sprawled out on the ground next to her. Limbs stretched out, he looked every bit the giant to Emily. He pulled out a second piece of bread and munched happily.

She resumed twisting her hands, staring at the ground. Idly, she rubbed at the sore muscles in her thigh. Agmund grinned.

"Sore, eh? You'll get used to it."

They stared into the fire for a while, one silent and the other munching happily. Agmund glanced at her, noting the perturbed look on her face.

"Got questions, don't you?" Her eyes shot up from the flames to stare at him. "I know that face, little lady. Got that confused expression on my face plenty of times, listening to Gavik go on about his book stuff."

The archer in question materialised at their side, causing Emily to jump. Agmund looked at him, nonplussed.

"Bothered that we're chatting about you, eh?

Gavik gave him a none too gentle kick in the side. "Your turn for watch."

Agmund sat up with a grunt. "Aye, I'm going. Treat the lady, nice, eh?"

He vanished into the shadows, leaving Emily and Gavik alone by the fire.

She resumed the twisting of her hands in the awkward silence. She jumped again as he spoke.

"Agmund said you were confused. Best ask your questions now, rather than later."

Emily remained silent, too nervous to say anything. Gavik sighed, sitting down on the log.

"Let me guess that, to you, nothing makes sense right now - us kidnapping you, making you one of us, the whole lot of it. In one way, you are right – this whole situation is stupid. Bandits, kidnapping people off the roads for recruiting? Everyone knows that bandits are disorganised, and isolated in groups.

"A while back, a few of us bandit groups got together; that way, there were more of us so that we could watch each other's backs. But that many people, having to work together in a group? We needed a leader." He tugged the quiver of arrows off of his back, inspecting the fletching and metal heads for signs of damage. "That is how Torben got to be in charge."

Now inspecting the string of his bow, Gavik continued. "Torben is a nasty piece of work. Greedy too, like most bandits. Wants to be able to cover a larger area, and really control the roads. He chose Whiterun Hold as that area, on account it has a lot of merchants travelling to Whiterun, the centre of Skyrim. Problem is, the war has caused a lot more dangerous people to be on the road, such as the Thalmor, the Stormcloaks… the Imperials." He ran his finger along a large scar on his wrist, almost absentmindedly.

"In short, we need more people. Torben doesn't care where they come from. But none of us like grabbing people off the roads. We're not kidnappers."

"But isn't that what you did to me?" Emily asked tentatively.

Gavik chuckled ruefully. "Aye, it is. None of the three of us want to recruit anybody, Ragnvald especially, but if we say or do otherwise we have Torben and the rest of them coming after us. The chief has been impatient of late, so we grabbed you. Don't have much choice in the matter."

They sat in silence, both looking at the now still form of Ragnvald in the distance. His pacing had stopped, and he now sat on a mossy boulder, smoking furiously at some sort of pipe.

Emily stared at the glowing light that was the pipe, then tentatively asked, "So none of you will hurt me?"

"No," Gavik said, leaning back. He now sat on the ground as Agmund had, using the log to support his torso.

"And," she asked slowly, "you will let me go after… after this is all over."

"Aye, once Torben is convinced that you are a decent bandit. He'll send us out to work, and then we'll let you go. We'll tell him you perished in a skirmish, and he'll be none the wiser."

"…Alright." Emily said. She was still cautious of them, but relieved that she wasn't captured for sport or … entertainment. She was thankful that, out of all the people she could have run into on the road to Winterhold, she hadn't been intercepted by men who preferred her as a corpse in a ditch. Maybe… maybe if she played her cards right, she could get them to travel with her partway to the college? Travelling with bandits who _probably_ wouldn't kill her was somewhat better than travelling alone.

Emily said goodnight to Gavik, who nodded in return. She moved to her bedroll, which was close to the fire, and drifted off into uneasy sleep.


End file.
